Don't Fear Your Reaper
by District4-divergent-nephilim
Summary: Dean has finally come to the end of his life, but what happens after is something he didn't expect.


**Right, so I woke up at 2:30 a.m. two nights ago and wrote down this idea because I had a dream about. Then I did the cry a little because it made me sad, and then I went back to bed. I really, really hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own _Supernatural._**

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><p>It had been almost twenty years since the defeat of Metatron. Cas has become almost human again after that. He could still heal, but he didn't have wings, he wasn't connected to angel radio, and he aged. Hell had been shut forever, making life a lot easier. Heaven had been shut off, too. While Cas was sad about never seeing his first family again, he was happy that he and his new family would never have to worry about them again.<p>

Dean had been glad that Cas was happy. Of course, the next step in their relationship had taken a little time- time to adjust to living together in the bunker. They eventually got used to it and took their relationship even further, to the point where Charlie, Jody, Chuck, Garth, and Death- yes, even Death- had all sent Sam money. Turns out they'd been betting on Dean and Cas getting together since Purgatory. Dean didn't mind, though. They had been right; Dean and Cas had gotten married five years after Heaven and Hell were closed for good.

Now, almost fifteen years later, at age fifty-six, Dean was dying. After the Heaven and Hell crap was sorted out, they had gone back to traveling the country in Baby, and all those hunts had caught up to him. Up until then, Cas had healed all the little things, even the joints that had started to ache from arthritis. But this time, Dean was really, truly dying. Of _lung cancer, _of all things. _Not monsters or demons, but lung cancer._ Cancer, the most human thing to die from that Dean could think of, was killing him; Dean thought it was ironic after all he's been through and everything he's done. Guess hanging out in all those bars with all those smokers took its toll on his body.

He didn't let Cas heal him because he knew it was his time to go, and he wanted it to be for good.

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><p>Dean had waited for Sam to step out of the hospital room for coffee to tell Cas what he had been holding for hours now. As soon as the door slammed shut, Dean motioned weakly for Cas to lean closer to him.<p>

"Yeah?" Cas whispered, his blue eyes holding a look of concern. "Do you need something?"

"We never had a song," Dean said, taking a deep, painful breath. He thought of Sam, whose lungs were once removed from his body for a brief period of time by that douchebag Zachariah; it had probably felt similar to this.

"What?" Cas said, sounding confused.

"A song," Dean repeated, sitting up a little straighter in his hospital bed and readjusting the cannula in his nose. "Our song."

"Okay…" Even after all these years, there were still things that Cas didn't understand about humanity.

"In movies, and books and stuff, couples always had songs. You know, that defined their relationship."

"What's ours?"

Dean thought for a moment, before finally saying, "I don't know, maybe 'Ten Years Gone' by Led Zeppelin."

"I have not heard it."

Dean took a deep breath. He would sing it, then, even it made him feel like he wanted to cough his lungs up. He would do it for Cas. He needed to know that they had a song. "_Did you ever really need somebody, and really need 'em bad... Did you ever really want somebody, the best love you ever had…_" he broke off in a fit of coughing.

"Okay, okay," Cas said tenderly, shushing him gently with the hand that wasn't clasped tightly in Dean's. "Don't strain your lungs." Dean nodded and coughed some more. "I wish you would just let me heal you," Cas wished.

"Oh, don't you cry no more about it, Cas," Dean said with a weak smile, hoping that Cas would catch the reference. "You know it's my time." He started coughing again.

"Lay your weary head to rest, then, Dean," Cas said stonily, gently pushing Dean against the bed so he could relax. "The doctor said to keep you from sitting up straight."

"Oh, c'mon, man," Dean complained. "Don't try to one-up me by quoting classic rock. I'm dying, for God's sake. Let me have my time to shine for just a couple more minutes."

"Minutes?" Cas asked nervously. "But the doctor said-"

"And I say something different than the doctors, and you should trust me enough to know I'm right," Dean said. "It's today. I can feel it."

Cas inhaled sharply and squeezed Dean's hand tightly just before Sam came back into the room. He set his half-filled coffee cup on Dean's side table and sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the bed from Cas.

"How are you feeling, Dean?" Sam asked, a tiny shard of hope in his voice.

"Like shit," Dean said confidently. "Also, I'm going to die today."

"What?" Sam yelped. "But-"

"But the doctor is wrong, so just put on some music and let me relax."

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone and started the playlist that of Dean's favorite songs that he had made when Dean got put in the hospital this time. "Traveling Riverside Blues" by Led Zeppelin started trickling out of the speakers.

"Nice," Dean said, closing his eyes and smiling slightly. After a few minutes, he said, "I'll see you guys in a couple years, right? In Heaven?"

"There's no guarantee that I will get into Heaven," Cas said. "My brothers and sisters might bar me from joining. But yes, I will see you if I can."

"What about you, Sam?"

"No offense, Dean, but do you really think I'm going to get into Heaven after everything I've done?"

"Are you denying the invitation into my heaven, bitch?" Dean said jokingly.

"No, you jerk," Sam said, trying not to smile but failing.

"You're both assbutts," Cas said. "Shh, I can hear something."

Dean looked at Cas intently before a movement out of this corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked down to the foot of the bed to see a little old man- a reaper, obviously- standing there. _Death,_ Dean thought. _Death thinks I'm important enough to reap my soul personally._

"I've brought the best pie I could find," Death said. Sam and Cas couldn't see him, of course. Death was here for Dean and for Dean only. "Figured you deserve it."

Dean nodded gave him a look that said 'Just give me a little time to say goodbye.'

"I, the most powerful being in the entire universe, show up with pie for you, and you ask for more time?" Death shook his head. "Very well, then. Thirty seconds."

Dean took a deep breath. "He's here."

"Who?" Cas asked, looking at Dean intently, his eyes glimmering with fear.

"Death," Dean replied, starting to feel his lungs giving up.

Sam sucked in his breath and hung his head. "So this is it, huh? No coming back this time?"

Dean shook his head and blinked. "Man, I love you guys."

Cas smiled sadly. "We love you, too. Dean. Remember that."

Dean smiled one last time, looking from Cas to Sam, then back to Cas, and then to Sam again. "Well, fellas, it's time I was on my way. Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay. But now it's time for me to go." At the end of the bed, Death rolled his eyes. Dean was surprised that Death most likely knew what Led Zeppelin was in the first place, but he supposed it made sense. John Bonham had probably been important enough for Death himself to reap when he had died in 1980.

"All the words in the world for you to choose from as your last, and you choose lyrics to your favorite Led Zeppelin song?" Sam asks, laughing through his tears. "That's so… you, Dean."

Dean smiled wider and nodded before relaxing completely. "I'm ready," he told Death. Death smiled and held out his hand. Dean took it gladly.

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><p>Sam and Cas refused to believe that Dean was really dead when his grip on their hands had loosened, but they were forced to accept that he was really gone when the heart rate monitor flatlined.<p>

"Surely Heaven waits for you, my righteous man," Cas said softly, barely loud enough for Sam to hear over the beeping machine. He could barely talk; his lips were trembling terrible, and everything was blurry from the tears. "You've earned it."

Sam, blinking back tears in his eyes, sighed and reached out, closing Dean's eyes for the last time. "Sleep well, my brother."

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><p>When Dean comes to, he's lying on a hard surface, surrounded by white. The only speck of color in the room he must be is a little handle in the wall, which must be a door. <em>It probably leads to my Heaven,<em> Dean thinks. _With my mom and Sammy._

It's not his happiest memory anymore, but Dean doesn't think his Heaven would change. He stands up and looks down at himself, then gives a little gasp of surprise. He's wearing his dad's leather jacket, the one he used to wear all the time, his wedding ring, and the amulet Sam gave him for Christmas that one year. They never got the original one back, but it makes sense that Dean would be wearing it now.

After a few seconds of looking himself over and realizing that he can breath without crying out in pain, Dean walks over to the door and opens it, before blinking and stepping through.

What he sees is… unexpected. It's not his mom or Sammy. Instead, he's in the bunker. His home of twenty-two years is his own personal heaven now? It makes sense. Some of his best memories happened in here. _Harry Potter_ and _Game of Thrones_ marathons with Charlie, Sam and Cas. Charlie and Dorothy's wedding. Garth's children running around like little devils, playing hide and seek with Cas, who played along with them like he was eight years old himself, which Dean thought was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

Suddenly, he's pulled from his train of thought by a loud, familiar crashing sound. Taking off quickly, he runs down the entrance stairs and down the hall to where they used to have the movie/TV show marathons.

Slowing down to lean against the door frame of the room, he smiles. "Hello?" he asks. Two smiling faces turn towards him. He grins back. "Hey, guys."

Cas grins even wider and gestures to the spot between him and Sam on the couch. Dean sits down obediently and takes his hand, noticing the large stack of movies on the other side of Cas.

Cas kisses his cheek. "Glad to finally have you back," he says gently.

"Good to be here," Dean says happily. "Looks like we've got work to do, huh?" he adds, pointing to the pile of movies. Cas nods and laughs, giving Dean's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Welcome home, Dean," Sam says, patting Dean on the shoulder. "Because, in the wise words of Steve Walsh, there really _is _peace when you're done."

**The End **

**(Or, the Beginning)**

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><p><strong>Sad but also happy, huh? Anyway, review if you liked it. And if you didn't, review anyway, because constructive criticism always helps!<strong>


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